"You want to talk about something?" the big spaceman inquired. Ben could almost see the paws hanging down and the tail wagging eagerly.
"Yeah," Starbuck said. "I'd like to talk about all of these men staring at me. What's wrong with them? Nobody's said a word to me but you. What are they waiting for? What are they going to do? I can't stand the suspense. Is that it? I get the silent treatment until I go off my rocker, get violent, and then something happens to me—" He stopped and swallowed. He was talking too much. He was working himself up into a state of terror.
"Say, you sure are friendly," the ox said with some confusion. "My name's Percy Kettleman."
Starbuck steadied his hand and put it in Percy's grasp. It came out whole.
"Those other fellows," Percy inclined his head.
"What about them?" Starbuck asked edgily.
"They'd probably like to come over and say 'hello' but them and me don't get along so good. They know better than to come around bothering me."
"You're not on their side? You wouldn't be a new man too, Percy?"
"Me? Hell, I've been spacing since I was sixteen. Those guys don't have any side. A bunch of anti-social slobs. They can't stand each other any more than I can stand any of them."